I do not understand any part of what the disgusting, frightening Japanese soldiers are saying. In January, many women and girls from our town were captured by the Japanese soldiers to be sent to their camps. When the Japanese soldiers took my mother, Yang Mei, and myself away, I was afraid that we might get physically tortured and hurt by the Japanese. Now that I think about it, I think getting beaten by the soldiers would have been at least better than the humiliation I am getting these days.
This whole awful cycle of humiliation and fear started back in January 1938 in my home town. One afternoon, I heard women screaming for help on the streets outside of my house. When I looked out the window, I saw three women dragged by the Japanese soldiers with guns ready to shoot the women if they caused too much trouble or noise. I wondered what was happening to the women, but I couldn’t ask or talk about this incident with anyone because the Japanese soldiers were always ready to ruthlessly shoot any Chinese talking about the Japanese actions in the town. The next week, even girls were taken by the Japanese soldiers. Then, the week after that, the Japanese soldiers came to my mother and my house, and took us away. Our hands were tied with a rope so that we can’t run away from the soldiers; we were helplessly dragged by the Japanese soldiers to a place, which seemed like a camp for the soldiers.
Right in front of a group of camps, my mother and I were separated into two different booths which each had about fifteen to twenty soldiers staying in them. I was pushed into the booth, and was forced to sit inside the circle of soldiers looking at me with the eyes full of lust.
“Pikankan. Pikankan.”
They said these weird Japanese words while laughing disgustingly. When I was going to try to stand up and get out of the discomforting circle, one of the soldiers tried to pull down my trousers with his sweaty, sickening hands. I quickly slapped his hand off of my body, and screamed out of fright. Surprised and angered at the same time, about five of the soldiers started to hit me, and I think I fainted at that moment.
Even after this incident, the rape of the soldiers continued. I dreadfully missed my family: my mother, my father, and my brother. I was especially worried about my mother who was sent to the other camp. She would have experienced the same torture and humiliation as the ones I had experience. I wonder how my father, Ma Wei Wei, and my brother, Ma Sheng Xun, are doing because I heard about the Japanese invasions in Shanghai and Hong Kong. A few months ago, I got a letter from my father saying that he is safe so my mother and I shouldn't worry about him, but I just know that what he had told me is not true; he would have been in a simply horrible situation, but he would probably have lied about the conditions in Shanghai to make me feel better. I just hope our family can get back together soon and be happy again...
"Pikankan. Pikankan."
I do not understand any part of what the disgusting, frightening Japanese soldiers are saying. In January, many women and girls from our town were captured by the Japanese soldiers to be sent to their camps. When the Japanese soldiers took my mother, Yang Mei, and myself away, I was afraid that we might get physically tortured and hurt by the Japanese. Now that I think about it, I think getting beaten by the soldiers would have been at least better than the humiliation I am getting these days.
This whole awful cycle of humiliation and fear started back in January 1938 in my home town. One afternoon, I heard women screaming for help on the streets outside of my house. When I looked out the window, I saw three women dragged by the Japanese soldiers with guns ready to shoot the women if they caused too much trouble or noise. I wondered what was happening to the women, but I couldn’t ask or talk about this incident with anyone because the Japanese soldiers were always ready to ruthlessly shoot any Chinese talking about the Japanese actions in the town. The next week, even girls were taken by the Japanese soldiers. Then, the week after that, the Japanese soldiers came to my mother and my house, and took us away. Our hands were tied with a rope so that we can’t run away from the soldiers; we were helplessly dragged by the Japanese soldiers to a place, which seemed like a camp for the soldiers.
Right in front of a group of camps, my mother and I were separated into two different booths which each had about fifteen to twenty soldiers staying in them. I was pushed into the booth, and was forced to sit inside the circle of soldiers looking at me with the eyes full of lust.
“Pikankan. Pikankan.”
They said these weird Japanese words while laughing disgustingly. When I was going to try to stand up and get out of the discomforting circle, one of the soldiers tried to pull down my trousers with his sweaty, sickening hands. I quickly slapped his hand off of my body, and screamed out of fright. Surprised and angered at the same time, about five of the soldiers started to hit me, and I think I fainted at that moment.
Even after this incident, the rape of the soldiers continued. I dreadfully missed my family: my mother, my father, and my brother. I was especially worried about my mother who was sent to the other camp. She would have experienced the same torture and humiliation as the ones I had experience. I wonder how my father, Ma Wei Wei, and my brother, Ma Sheng Xun, are doing because I heard about the Japanese invasions in Shanghai and Hong Kong. A few months ago, I got a letter from my father saying that he is safe so my mother and I shouldn't worry about him, but I just know that what he had told me is not true; he would have been in a simply horrible situation, but he would probably have lied about the conditions in Shanghai to make me feel better. I just hope our family can get back together soon and be happy again...